when you
look at
my picture
do you
see the pain
can you see
my marks
can you see
a soul
trying to
find help
from another
or maybe
a little girl
looking for love
How about
someone so
damaged
they cant
seem to find
true happiness
I know
this world
it is my own
my eyes
never shine
they are
always cold
showing nothing
but the hatred
for the beatings
and the marks
I was given
so young
wishing
I could
understand
why my family
chose my blood
to shed
why they chose
to turn
a little girl
so full of light
into a hateful
dimmed light
I will never
understand